


Incision?

by Mystrothedefender



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Self-Harm, Trans Joker (DCU), Trans Male Character, self-surgery, top surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:19:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25113787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystrothedefender/pseuds/Mystrothedefender
Summary: Joker does top surgery on himself and does a piss poor job of it.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	Incision?

Denied.

The word bounced around Joker’s head, stabbing him with pain each time it hit the side.

Denied.

He had never imagined one word could cause him so much hurt.

Denied?!

How dare they.

What made them think they had any right to deny him this?

It was his body.

If he wanted to do something to his own fucking body, he could.

He would.

He couldn’t live another moment like this.

He wouldn’t have himself dictated by them.

He stuck his hand under his thin mattress, into the small hold he’d created in it, rooting around till he found what he was looking for.

A scalpel he’d stolen from the medical centre.

He’d been planning to use it to escape.

But this was a better use of it.

He retrieved it, placing it carefully on his bedside table, and began to pull off his Arkham issue bright orange uniform.

He let the clothing hang loose around him, and stared down at himself.

The useless disgusting lumps of flesh on his chest.

His stomach turned at the sight of them.

He reached out to pick the scalpel up, his hands shaking with anticipation, adrenaline at the thought of what he was about to do.

He let out a slow breath, a smile splitting his face as he pressed the blade against his skin.

“Bye, girls,” he whispered, his voice turning to a whine as pain stung him, blood dribbling quickly down his stomach, clashing with his skin, staining the pants of his uniform.

His breath shortened as he cut into himself, slicing into himself, carving out troughs of flesh.

A laugh forced its way from him at the sound of blood dripping onto the floor, his vision turning blurry as he continued cutting deep into his chest.

They would be gone soon.

They couldn’t stop him.

They thought a stamp on a piece of paper would stop him.

He felt his knees weaken, he slumped slightly, back against the bed, his hands shaking almost aggressively as he made himself continue.

He wouldn’t let himself stop.

He couldn’t.

He couldn’t.

More laughter left him, like vomit, he couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop himself shaking, couldn’t stop himself.

He hit the floor, but he didn’t feel it.

His head slammed against the concrete, blood pooling around him.

But he couldn’t feel it.

He wondered how long it would take for them to find him like this.

He wondered if they would realise they couldn’t have stopped him.

**Author's Note:**

> I like to torture myself I guess ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
